


Children are a Series of Firsts

by tryslora



Series: All Our Yesterdays [27]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Children, Community: fullmoon_ficlet, Cuddling & Snuggling, Healing, M/M, Storytelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2014-07-05
Packaged: 2018-02-07 14:04:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1901772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While listening to children play, Jackson and Stiles remember when the entire process of child rearing was new.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Children are a Series of Firsts

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for prompt #75 - First Times at fullmoon_ficlet. I know, I know, there's another first time that folks would love to see, but that's a story yet to come, and not one I will write for fullmoon. :( As always, I do not own the world nor characters of Teen Wolf, I just like to play with them.

There’s a shout from the living room, and the sound of small feet thudding as little girls chase each other around. From the sound of it, Haley is fitting right in with the other girls in the pack, with little growls that lead to howls and a cacophony of noise. It’s impossible to sleep, but Jackson doesn’t mind. 

He floats a little, his mind trapped in the haze that Deaton’s concoction has placed him within, but he doesn’t mind that, either. He can feel the fight of his body trying to push out the rabid infection. It’s unpleasant, making him overly warm and prickly, and only the sense of Stiles lying next to him, half on top of him in his slumber, makes him relax.

Even after all this time and all the distance, his wolf still responds to his ex-husband and knows his anchor.

And of course, Stiles can sleep through the chaos.

Jackson idly cards his fingers through Stiles’s hair, scratching lightly to massage the scalp. He feels the rumble of pleasure before he hears it; Stiles arches up into the touch with a soft sound, then nuzzles back into Jackson’s shoulder.

“Fuck,” Stiles murmurs. “How is it even possible that you smell good, when you’ve been in bed for three days?”

“You like the smell of me in bed,” Jackson tells him. It used to be true, and Jackson has no filter, the wolfsbane stripping away his conscious barriers. Like this, all he wants to do is tug Stiles close and revel in the feel of him. It’s nearly impossible to resist, but he needs him near in order to stay calm.

It hasn’t been an easy three days.

“I can’t dispute that. Even though this isn’t the good kind of in bed.” Stiles pulls back, manages to wedge one shoulder under himself so that he can lie on his side next to Jackson, his hand idly pressed against Jackson’s chest. “And it isn’t going to be.”

Jackson deludes himself that the sentence ends with _because we’re both still injured_ rather than _because we’re divorced_. It’s nice to daydream, even if it encourages his subconscious into wanting to drag Stiles close and plunder his mouth.

“The kids woke you up.” He speaks to distract himself, distance himself from inappropriate thoughts.

“Your hands woke me up,” Stiles counters, which doesn’t help at all. “But you have a point, the kids are noisy. It sounds like Nikki and Caleb have things well in hand, though. With Derek’s three, and Isaac’s one, they’ve had a lot of experience around babies. Sounds like they’re all here.”

“Haley’s fitting in. Isaac took Stephen with him for a little while.” It had hurt to let go of the infant, to let him out of the house, but Isaac had seemed like he understood when he promised to bring him back soon. “Nikki’s not like we were, when she was born.”

Stiles laughs at that, shaking his head. He draws something on Jackson’s chest, and he can’t quite tell what it’s supposed to be. “Do you remember when Nikki was born?” Stiles asks. “We were both there, because Lydia insisted, and Melissa somehow managed to convince the hospital that it was fine that both of us and Allison were in with Lydia while she was giving birth. Which she managed to look perfect while doing, of course.”

Jackson snorts softly. “Of course. And then there was Nikki, who was a wrinkled red ball of tears, with a puff of ginger hair.”

“And Lydia wouldn’t stop touching her hair and smiling, saying she _knew_ it would be that way.”

“She was just glad it meant she didn’t have to tell us who the father was.”

“Probably,” Stiles allows. “She held Nikki out to us, and she made you hold her first. You were so… awkward. You went completely stiff, like Nik was going to attack you. You just stood there, staring at her.”

Jackson scowls. “Lydia laughed at me.”

“She laughed at both of us.” Stiles slides down slowly until he’s still on his side, but all the way down on the bed, fingers still tracing idle patterns across Jackson’s chest. “When I tried to rescue you, and we ended up juggling Nikki between us… Lydia thought we were going to drop her.”

“It’s a wonder she survived, isn’t it? Especially after Lydia died, when it was just the two of us.” Jackson remembers how impossible everything seemed then, how everything was another first that they hadn’t been responsible for before. Bathtimes and dinner and reading at night… every single first seemed insurmountable until it became a second and a third and eventually a routine.

“We know what we’re doing this time around.”

Jackson wonders if Stiles meant to say it that way, to say _we_ instead of _I._ “We do,” he agrees quietly. “Although it’ll be easier when we both aren’t half-broken.”

“Deaton says two more days of wolf-strong drugs for you.” Stiles pats Jackson’s chest. “I’m stronger every day. Who knew that actually resting would help me heal?”

“So getting stuck in bed myself was all it took to keep you still?” Jackson huffs. 

“It’s not what I would’ve expected either.” Stiles rolls into him, arm wrapped securely around Jackson’s middle, head pillowed against his shoulder. “But here we are. And in a few days, we’ll take care of a whole new series of firsts with Stephen and Haley and Nik.”

“Not planning on throwing me out as soon as you’re well?” Because Jackson half expected that, when he first moved in after Stiles’s injury.

“It’s not so bad with you here. And we’ve got work to do in order to shut down the nemeton. There’s no point in you staying somewhere else. For now.”

It’s still technically temporary, and they aren’t together, but it’s another step forward. Another first. Jackson can accept it for what it is; it’s better than where they were.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me [on tumblr](http://tryslora.tumblr.com)!


End file.
